


Snippets of Souls

by sunkelles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Character Study, POV Second Person, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:05:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or a series of poems about the ladies from A Song of Ice and Fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sansa Stark

**Author's Note:**

> You are a child no more.

I. 

  
You are a child  
You are a child, hopeful and naive when summer ends.   
You are a child, foolish and stupid, when the world chews you up and spits you out.

They call you Stark but the first glimpse you will get of winter is your father’s death.   
They call you Stark, but you are a summer child.

You know nothing of winter yet.

  
II. 

  
Your enemies call you little bird.  
You do not realize until it is too late that it is a mocking term.   
You do not realize until too late that they mean you ill will.

Your father’s head has long since rolled, and the boy-king you once thought gallant laughs as he has his guards beat you.

You sing their songs as the bruises form constellations on your skin, and you wish you were a better singer.   
You wish perhaps your inept lies would fall on ears that wish to hear them.   
They do not, and the cycle starts again.

He laughs as they beat you, and you try so hard not to cry.   
You never succeed.

You are no longer a summer child. You wish for snow and cold to fall over the capitol.   
You wish for winter to come, for your brother to win the war.   
You wish for him to destroy the Capitol, to kill your captors the way that winter does, slowly, and brutally.   
You do not let this show, though, and smile at court as if you weren’t a captive.   
You can be their songbird.   
You can survive.

Starks were once kings of winter, but you aren’t entirely a Stark.   
You are adaptive; you can change to survive.

They call you little bird.   
They aren’t entirely wrong.

  
III. 

  
They call you Lannister.  
By law, that’s what you are.   
They wed you to a lion, and that is the way the world works.   
Wives shed their names along with their past lives and take on their husband’s houses.   
They take on their husband’s lives.  
You have already shed your skin, and it is not hard to do so again.

The Lannisters destroy the Starks. Your mother and your brother meet their ends at a wedding, and you remain in the Capitol.   
You call them traitors, and force a part of yourself to believe it.   
You are not a Stark; you are a Lannister, and they tell you that you’re winning.   
The thought brings you no comfort.   
Neither does your husband. You do not lie together.   
You barely speak.   
The only thing that you share is a name.

They call you Lannister.   
You do not wish to be one.

  
IV. 

  
They call you Stone.   
Alayne Stone is the newest name that you add to your list.   
Your father is Petyr Baelish.   
You were to become a septa.   
You are now to wed Harrold Hardyng.

You shed your last skin, and Alayne Stone you become.   
You do not want to, but you want to survive.   
You survived King’s Landing.   
You survived your entire family.   
You can survive the Vale.

The Starks have all died. But Stones live forever.   
You are a survivor.   
You slip into another skin, and try to forget the pains of your past.   
This new name erases them no more than your last did.

They call you Alayne.   
They call you Stone.   
They call you The Lord Protector’s daughter.   
You wish desperately, that they would call you Sansa.   
But you also hope that they never will.

 

You are a survivor, and you will survive them all.


	2. Cersei Lannister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twins in heart and mind

I.

Sometimes, you cannot tell where you end and Jaime begins.   
You have always been together, “Jaime and Cersei” and “Cersei and Jaime”   
The idea of being separate, distinct entities never occurs to you.   
No one can tell you apart, and that is frankly the way you like it.   
Your brother’s hand ends where yours begins.

 

II.

You are nearly seven when anything changes.   
Your lessons separate, and Jaime goes to learn swords as you are forced to learn needlework and courtesies.   
Jaime gets the better end of the deal, but you do not understand why things should be any different for him than they are for you.   
You are nearly the same, twins in heart and mind.

 

They cannot tell you apart.   
You do not understand why they start making distinctions now.

 

III.

 

You are a young maid and you wear Jaime’s clothes for excursions in Lannisport.   
They cannot tell you apart. But when you are clad in Jaime’s clothes, the world looks at you much differently.   
They see Jaime as a person, worthy of respect and position.   
They see you as something to be gawked at and sold.   
You are not supposed to envy Jaime, but you do.

You envy him, and miss the days where you were seen as the equals you always will be.

 

VI.

 

You cannot tell where your lips end, or Jaime’s begin,   
And you fit together like puzzle pieces when you fuck.

Jaime is to be a knight of the Kingsguard, and you are to be in King’s a Landing, waiting for father to pounce and make you a queen.

You pretend the idea of being queen makes you happy.   
To an extent, it does. You will be the most powerful woman in the Seven Kingdoms,   
But you will still be a woman.   
Women are gawked at and fucked and sold.

 

You miss the days when people could not tell you apart.


	3. Jeyne Poole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeyne, her name is Jeyne

I.

 

Your father is a steward.

You grow up on the cusp of nobility,

befriending the daughter of a great lord.

Sansa Stark is the picture of beauty and grace,

daughter of Ned Stark, Warden of the North.

You laugh with her, and almost feel her equal.

 

You watch her younger sister dance through her life.

Arya Stark is no great lady. She is not beautiful, graceful, or gentle.

Sometimes, you are not certain that she is a girl.

You mock her, of course, and make her older sister laugh.

You bring down the highborn lady who has everything you ever wanted, but never had to try for it.

It makes you feel powerful. Perhaps if you bring Arya down, you can raise yourself up.

But you remain the steward’s daughter, and no one ever forgets that.

They never let you forget it, either.

 

II.

 

They kill Lord Stark, and then they kill your father.

No one else cares, of course, that they put a sword through the steward’s stomach, and no one cares that they send his daughter to a brothel.

You doubt if even Sansa does. She has her own worries.

 

Lord Baelish calls you “lucky” and calls you an “investment”

He tells you that you will have to work to keep your place.

 

You know what work he means.

You’d like to think whoring beneath you, but you are no great lady.

You are the daughter of a dead steward who served a traitorous lord.

You are little more than dirt to these people, dirt with a cunt.

You learn how to use it.

 

III.

 

They call you many names.

Some call you “sweetling” or “baby” or “doll”.

Some call you by the names of long dead wives or lovers, and most call you nothing at all.

You’re just a pretty face and a pretty hole, and you forget that you were ever almost a lady.

You almost forget about the North, about Winterfell.

Then they call you back.

 

IV.

 

They call you Arya.

You are not Arya, and you are not a Stark.

Your name is Jeyne Poole.

You were a steward’s daughter, a friend to Sansa.

You are now a whore. You are no Arya Stark.

 

Arya Stark was willful and horse-faced and not worthy of being a lady,

but you are a whore now. You’re worth even less.

  
You suppose you deserve the husband that you are given.

 

He looks every bit a monster, and you see the fruit of his hands.

You can see Theon’s missing fingers, see the way he shies from his name

It would take a simpleton to not realize that Theon is broken.

It would take an even simpler one not to fear your fate.

 

And by the gods, you fear your fate. You would trade anything to be the steward’s daughter again.

You do not want to be a Stark, and you certainly do not want to be a   
 _Bolton._

Your fate is written, though, and you accept it because you have no other choice.

 

 

V.

 

You know you won’t live much longer if you stay. 

 _Winter is coming_ , and the Boltons’ grip on Winterfell and the North is tenuous at best. 

Your grip on reality is slipping as you flee more constantly into your head. 

You beg for his help,   
but Theon is dead.   
He’s dead as much as Jeyne is.

He is Ramsay’s, from his skin   
To his fingers to his name.

You nearly give up, nearly give in,

then something unexpected happens. 

 

Theon rises again. 

 

VI. 

 

You escape, but not everything changes. 

They still call you Stark.  
The king calls you Arya, and plots to rally the North through you.   
It is better than whore, or Bolton, or dead,   
And Theon says they will kill you if they find out.

You’ve survived this long,  
You aren’t going to die now.

 _And perhaps_ , you think desperately, fruitlessly

if Theon can rise again, _so can Jeyne_


	4. Catelyn Tully Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven Faces

1. 

You run through springtime meadows, with flowers in your hair

You laugh and swim in the river, and bathe in innocence that will soon be long gone

The days of your youth are fleeting, 

And you will not be the Maiden for long.

 

2. 

A war wages on as you wed your husband. 

Your childhood is dead and gone, but you persist

Love begets love, and trust begets trust

Perhaps you can learn to love, if you must

Your husband seems cold and hard, 

But your marriage will not spring from nothing,

You must build your relationship. 

You are the Smith now, and you will build a love worthy of the songs.

 

3. 

You build and build, until the building’s done

Then, you raise a slew of children. 

 

It turns out that’s the easy part. 

You love each child more than air, 

And wish them nothing but the best. 

 

Summer is here, 

And you were born to be the mother. 

But as the Starks you love know,

Summer never lasts. 

 

4. 

Summer ends as Bran falls, 

And the mother gives way when they try to put a dagger through his chest. 

 

Your Warrior is born, then

And the Warrior must be strong

 

You drag the imp across kingdom come, 

And treat with Baratheons. 

“A Lannister pays his debts” but no debts are paid

No apologies are issued. 

Only a castle besieged. 

 

Your sons die, 

And the Mother still gasping for air inside of you

Makes a decision

 

You put the dagger aside, 

And you let your warrior die. 

 

The Warrior does not pass judgments,

But the Father does. 

 

5. 

There is a man, 

An awful, foul man in the dungeons

But he and only he can give you the thing you long for

Your daughters returned. 

 

Your son would not approve, of course

But he is not here, and you are the Father. 

 

It’s the Father’s place to judge. 

 

You take a chance, and tip the scales. . 

 

Your plan does not work, and the Father withers away 

leaving nothing but a husk. 

 

6. 

You are the Crone. 

Alone, alone, alone

You’ve lost your husband, and survived two (three) children,

The fourth is wed to an enemy 

And the fifth ignores your advice. 

 

You are the Crone, and the Crone’s wisdom goes unheard. 

 

A wedding, that should have been for your son

Turns quickly from white to red. 

It rains blood at the Twins, just like Castamere

And you loose the last child that remains to you. 

 

_Jaime Lannister sends his regards,_

And the Crone’s madness goes unheard. 

 

7. 

You do not expect to wake up. 

Death is permanent,

Death conquers all, 

But death gives you a second chance. 

 

You are reborn near the waters where you spent your youth, 

But you remember naught but pain, 

Pain, and anger, and dead loved ones

 

Your Maiden is long gone, 

And a Mother with no children is nothing at all. 

 

The world was not kind to you, but you can pay it back. 

This time, you are the Stranger

and like a Lannister, the Stranger pays her debts. 


	5. Jeyne Westerling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're only human

I. 

 

The Westerlings were a proud house, once 

The Crag was a great castle, 

the mines yielded large amounts of gold 

 

by the time you are born, 

these days seem farther off than Aegon’s conquest 

 

The Crag is a rotting castle, 

and you are a lowborn lady 

who will likely never wed above your station. 

 

ii. 

 

You had a great-grandmother that was a witch

maegi, they called her 

but not a trace of her magic runs through your veins. 

witches are something otherworldy, 

more than human, 

magical. 

 

you’re only human

if you were something more,

you’d fix your luck, 

and if your mother had her way, 

wed a Lannister 

 

that’s what she’s always wanted for you, 

or perhaps for herself. 

 

iii. 

 

The War of Five Kings seems a distant thing, 

you’re no Lannister, 

no Stark and no Baratheon. 

 

Your family of petty bannermen has little invested in the conflict. 

even the Ironmen leave you alone. 

 

You think the Young Wolf sounds like a hero out of one of the songs,

but your mother reminds you that the thoughts are treasonous. 

Joffrey Baratheon is king of the Seven Kingdoms, 

and she wants to see you wed to a Lannister yet. 

 

iv. 

 

The war does not affect you at all, 

until it shows up on your front doorstep. 

the war, the Young Wolf,

and all that comes with him. 

 

Robb’s physical injuries are minor,

but the ones done to his heart are more serious. 

and you try to help him. 

 

He’s all auburn hair and river blue eyes, 

and you’re only human. 

 

You sleep with him, expecting nothing in return,

except perhaps a vial of moon tea. 

instead, he proposes marriage upon the morrow. 

and you of course, say yes. 

 

You’re only human. 

 

v. 

 

His bannermen are not pleased with his choice of spouse, 

and neither is his mother. 

you can tell, but you say nothing. 

you understand why they don’t care for you. 

 

Your marriage ended an alliance, 

but your husband doesn’t seem to care. 

he giggles into your neck, 

and you speak of babes and tomorrow 

and of the crowns he’ll make you when he takes back Winterfell. 

 

There was a Jeyne Westerling once who wed a Targaryen king, 

a Jeyne Westerling who became queen. 

 

You never expected to become one yourself. 

“Queen Jeyne,” robb whispers, 

“long may she reign.” 

 

vi. 

 

You reign ends abruptly, 

as you learn of your husband’s demise. 

 

You know for certain that you are no psychic, 

no greenseer, no witch,

because if you’d have known the harm you would cause him

you’d have stayed far away from Robb Stark. 

 

You loved him,

but that means nothing in the end.

 

You killed him as much as they Freys did. 

 

 

vii. 

 

Your mother finally weds you to a Lannister, 

just as she always wanted. 

and you feel nothing but anger and shame. 

Robb is dead and buried, 

and no one will ever remember that Stark is your name. 


End file.
